Only a matter of time
by Pixie Pie 3
Summary: Confessions. Love. Anger. Confusions. Note: this is a Ginny/Harry fic from the point of view of Ginny. Please review, and tell me what you think!! Also, it may seem to be an innocent little chapter at first but then it gets deep, so that's why it's PG-1
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: not mine (JK Rowling and Dido)  
  
"My tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why I got out of bed at all. The morning rain clouds up my window, and I can't see at all, And even if I could it'd all be gray, but your picture on my wall It reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad."  
  
Still in my white pajamas, I sat crossed-legged on a window ledge, and sipped my tea inside the tiny, and cozy pub filled with cheerful and talkative witches and wizards. Holding my mug close to me, I watched the many faces in the winter storm outside, running with hands covering their faces. I stared, mesmerized by the falling flakes, and white swirling gusts of wind. I felt a light tap on my shoulder, and looked to see whom it was. Ron was looking down upon me. He was holding a tray of tea, crumpets, and steaming mugs of butterbeer.  
  
"Want to join us?" He said, nodding toward the table behind him, occupied by Harry and Hermione.  
  
"Sure" I said  
  
We walked over to the small round table, and sat down. Harry and Hermione greeted me, and I did the same in return.  
  
I guess I had gotten over my feelings for Harry, but I still couldn't help thinking that maybe there was still hope for us. After all, he had been the one who saved my life many times before, and he always seemed to be there when I needed him. Being the sister of his best friend also didn't make it any easier on me, but it was great to be somewhat close to the man I love. Love, yes, love. It never occurred to me how much I loved him, and never would I admit it, even writing it down was difficult. But sometime last year I looked at my past journal entries, and realized that I had wrote down almost everything possible on Harry: His looks, behavior, talents, style, friends, and enemies. The list could go on forever, but I figured that it was time to write my true feelings about him. Constantly, I had been complaining about the fact that he never noticed me, or whatnot. But that time was over. Now it was time for some serious thoughts. So I began to fill my notebook with love letters and poems about Harry. Soon, my journal was occupied with at least three to four pages of "I LOVE YOU HARRY" written all over them. But after the summer, I had gotten used to not writing about him, so I put my diary under my bed and started to enjoy other things in life. About three months went by, and still the journal was left untouched. School had been starting soon, and as I began to pack, I came across it. It had been covered with dust, and seemed ages old, but for some odd reason I pocketed it and began to write in it once more.  
  
I was on winter break now, and I had been thinking about confessing my true feelings to Harry, and spilling out my heart and soul to him, just telling him exactly how I felt ever since I met him. But I was too much of a coward, and my diffidence kept me from doing it. Another problem was that I didn't even know if he felt the same way toward me. What if he didn't take me seriously, like that would ever happen, but what if he didn't? I had been collecting my thoughts together for a while now, and I decided to write it all down in a letter. That way, I wouldn't get all tongue-tied and mixed up when I talked to him. Meanwhile, I was playing hard-to-get, and acting as if everything was just fine between us, and telling people that we were just "friends." But I don't know if this act would last very long. It's only a matter of time that we find out. 


	2. Flying and Dreaming

Disclaimer: not mine (JK Rowling)  
  
It was a quiet morning the next day, and everything seemed still outside. It was drizzling lightly, and there was some dew on the flowers, and leaves. The air smelled fresh of springtime approaching and it was already warmer as the day progressed.  
  
I sat on the grounds under a tall oak tree, the wind ruffling my dress slightly. The light blue ribbon holding up my hair swayed gently back and forth in front of my face. I held a pile of parchment on my lap, and a quill. I was ready to confess my feelings to Harry in a letter. However, getting started was the difficult part.  
  
My quill paused at a likely looking paragraph. How would I address him? "My Dearest Harry?" No, it sounded too mushy; I wasn't about to marry him. "Harry" looked oddly plain on a love letter. How about "Sir Potter?" Even in my head, the words sounded stupid. He wasn't some kind of military captain. I decided to skip that part and come back to it later. I wanted to tell him everything at once, which I couldn't possibly accomplish by cramming into one paragraph. So, I thought briefly, and organized my ideas in order.  
  
First, I stated my reasons for writing: because I loved him, and wanted to know if he felt the same way back. Then, slowly, I opened up my heart, spilling out my feelings to him. I went back to the beginning, and wrote "Dear Harry." It looked just right somehow, so I left it alone. My letter was almost a roll long.  
  
~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~  
  
Later that day, I put my letter in my bag. I knew it still needed something else, so until I found out what that was, then I'd continue. I spent the rest of my morning daydreaming, and strolling about the grounds. I dropped by to visit Hagrid, and had a cup of tea with him. He had been experimenting with his new recipe of rock cakes, which now appeared to have the same shape and smell of coal, and was delighted to have a visitor sample them. I, however, wise enough not to trust Hagrid's cooking, kindly rejected, and left quickly in case he wanted me to try something else.  
  
On my way back, I bumped into Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the Great Hall. They were on their way to the Quidditch Pitch to watch Harry and Ron practice, and invited me to come along. I agreed, and the four of us trudged over the grounds to the field. Hermione and I headed towards the stands, while Harry and Ron left to the locker rooms. While they changed the two of us engaged ourselves in deep conversation of all sorts of topics. It wasn't until Harry kicked off and soared into the air, that I stopped talking and stared up into the sky.  
  
Afterwards, they flew over to us and hovered in midair. I asked if I could have a go, but didn't address whom I was speaking to. Both seemed to be confused and offered their brooms at once. It was an awkward moment, but to my relief and surprise, Harry jumped off his broom in the stands and handed it to me. My heart thumped.  
  
I tried to thank him, but my voice seemed to have gone, and what came out was a strange huffing sound. I tried again, this time managing a quiet "thanks." Harry nodded, and sat down next to Hermione.  
  
Ron decided to ride by my side just for assurance. I mounted the broom and kicked off from the stands. I soared high into the air, the wind pushing against my face. My stomach felt light and easy, and the broom was splendid. It turned and moved with the touch of a finger, and it seemed to obey my every command. I rose higher and higher until the hoops were the size of galleons. I noticed Ron was slightly below me, keeping close by, but only just. He struggled to keep up with the exact speed and precision of the Firebolt. His broom wasn't as strong as Harry's but his flying was exceptional. I decided to have a bit of fun. I dove with a plunge to the Quidditch field, and half laughed as Ron opened his mouth. He was stunned that I actually left his side. Perhaps he thought I would be frightened. He went into a shaky dive after me, as I raced around the field. I looped in midair, and stopped to take a breather. Ron finally caught up, wiped the sweat off his forehead, and halted to a stop in front of me. I expected him to be angry, but I was shocked to see his mouth still hanging open.  
  
"Ginny, how.how did you." He broke off, staring at me as if observing me in a new light.  
  
Over his head, I saw Harry and Hermione trotting across the field over to us. They came to a stop, and they too were staring at me as if I'd just done something heroic.  
  
"What?" I asked, completely unaware as to what was going on.  
  
"Well, that was really good flying," said Harry for Ron, as he couldn't seem to be able to speak on his own.  
  
I felt my face burn, and knew I was blushing deeply. All those years of practicing paid off to see the one person I fancy smiling back at me, and admiring my ability. I felt like doing something wonderful, I wanted to jump off a cliff and do back flips to see him look at me with admiration again. But then a familiar voice broke through my daydreams and pulled me back down to Earth. Ron was peaking again.  
  
"Ginny.have you ever flown before?" Ron asked, a strange high pitch in his voice.  
  
"Uh.uh.b.well.I."  
  
I had feared this. Ever since I was young, I would sneak into the broom shed at home, and practice flying when everyone was away. I didn't want to tell Ron because I had borrowed his, Fred and George's brooms, which I wasn't allowed to touch. The only person I had ever told was Hermione. Judging by the interested, but confused faces of Harry and Ron, I knew Hermione had still kept my secret. I suddenly, became very thankful.  
  
"Well, actually I."  
  
In the distance, the bell sounded from somewhere inside the school.  
  
"Uh.lunch time.don't want to be late," I said, left the three of them, and headed to the stands to collect my bag.  
  
When I retrieved it, I turned to head back down the stairs, and noticed that I was blocked by Hermione. She was smiling.  
  
"Close one," She said  
  
"Yeah, thanks for not telling," I smiled.  
  
"No probs," She said, as we descended the staircase.  
  
I smiled to myself, and thought there was no better time to be saved by the bell. 


End file.
